


reflections // reminisces// redemption

by atlas_oulast



Series: righteousness and the journey to it [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: F/M, Fluff & Angst, Hilarity Ensues, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Post-Canon, School Dances, Sickfic, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-10-15 07:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17524547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlas_oulast/pseuds/atlas_oulast
Summary: Brooke, and her journey to becoming the someone she can be, and not the dumb blonde she’s known to be.Jeremy, and his journey to embracing himself, and not the someone he thought he should be.





	1. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning, with Brooke looking back on her history with boys and popularity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brief rape and period tws

Brooke Lohst was known as a hopless romantic, a dumb blonde at Middleborough High, but when before she’d embraced it, she was now finished with those titles.

She’d dated nine jocks, including Jake (who later cheated on her with Chloe and broke up with her for Chloe), the guy on clarinet in the school band, and... Jeremy Heere.

Or rather, a shell of Jeremy, if you could call it that, even. He’d been under the influence of a supercomputer in his brain, which infected her and the rest of the cast of a failure of a Shakespeare play last fall, and was later deactivated.

She remembered it, hazily, barely. White, blinding pain, a rush of cold air, and a crisp voice, but no words, yet dictating her to do this, that, those other things, a flash of Jeremy’s face, and then suffocating, dark pain, and then the next she remembered were white sheets on a hospital bed.

The rest was history.

Somehow, her friend group (Chloe, Jenna to some extent, Jake, Rich to some extent, and her) had become... friends... friends with Michael Mell, a nerd in a ratty red hoodie who’d apparently deactivated the SQUIPS, or at least helped.

Christine Canigula, the awkward and shy girl who turned exuberant and bubbly in play rehearsal, who held her Shakespeare and Playbills to her chest and her musicals at her ears to block out the world most of the time.

And... and Jeremy. Jeremy, who’d bought a SQUIP at the Payless in Menlo Mall and was a huge nerd, used to wear Pokemon and Zelda t-shirts before he’d switched to Eminem and solid colours, Jeremy, the pretty brunette boy with constellations of freckles, blue green eyes full of oceans and peace, and a pretty laugh, like a sweet bell ringing in your ears that left you happy and full all day.

Jeremy, who smiled carefully and sweetly and cautiously, like he was afraid of how they’d be received. 

Jeremy, who was lanky and tall and every crevice nook and cranny of him was beautiful, his little nose and his wide eyes and long legs and even his slightly slouched posture. She could drink him in forever.

But he barely even spoke to her, even as they all began to eat lunch together, sharing their daily escapades and the funny thing that their mom or dad or siblings did last week and how awful the succotash tasted.

She felt guilty that she could see this beautiful boy and couldn’t even work up the nerve to talk to him.

She could say a word here, a well-placed comment there, describe in detail what had occurred in the hall involving Michael, the quarterback, a frisbee and a history textbook, but when Jeremy spoke, her throat caught and she lost herself in his words, catching onto each one and lavishing them, stashing them away in a corner of her mind so she could relive it later.

Usually, she was the perky-breasted giggly one night stand, the stupid shiny blonde haired bottom, the little naive girl who got caught up in too many guys.

She didn’t know how to love someone.

She’d had boyfriends, yes, but there was never that... that spark. That feeling. That was how love was, right? Your first kiss was supposed to be magical, fireworks of first love and mystically soft lips and a perfect passionate kiss.

Her first kiss (not counting various kindergarten kisses) was unusually late, most everyone in her class had already had a couple kisses.

It was eighth grade, and with Issac Waters. He’d moved away when Brooke was halfway through tenth grade, but not before he’d done his damage. He’d trapped her against some lockers and kissed her forcefully and people saw and they cheered because Issac was handsome and cute and that one boy that all the girls had wanted.

A bit of a Gaston, but she wasn’t Belle.

She was initially excited. The cutest, most popular junior boy if not the most popular, he wanted her! He wanted her! It was like a dream. A fairtytale. 

But he wasn’t Prince Charming, in fact anything but. He was generally disgusting, popping pimples on dates and then trying to hold her hand with the pimple ooze hand (and boy did he have big pimples) he always had terrible breath, he never showered.

But also, as you’d guess, in his behaviour. He was rude, he dropped too many lewd jokes, he didn’t care what Brooke thought and let her flatten to a doormat. Rather than help her, he wiped his feet.

And when they’d had sex... at least the first time, he’d forced her to say yes. Otherwise, he’d break up with her and let the whole school know that she was a virgin.

So she’d let him have his fun. Again and again.

Even when it meant that she had to take a pill and make something go away, she let him keep doing it, until he got bored with her and moved on to Paisley Richards, floated around with some other girls, until he’d moved away to wreak havoc on some school in Ohio.

Chloe had already risen to a quick popularity and she was already not the person she’d been in middle school, so Brooke had never told her how Issac had made her feel like she was powerless, like her only purpose was for boys to have fun with. She might as well just cut off all of her body and just be a vagina.

She never told anyone how almost every boy ended up doing exactly the same thing.

Jake had been slightly better. Slightly. He hadn’t forced her to consent, and he showered, but he was still pretty rude. That was near the end of Sophmore year, but guess who Jake went to sophmore prom with.

Chloe.

Brooke had settled for another Issac-type boy and shut up.

So forgive her if she didn’t usually bother with boys anymore, if at all. 

And none of her hundreds of various kinds of kisses had had any sparks. None at all. No firework display, rush of passionate heat, the glow of love, soft perfect virgin lips and no teeth banging.

They were just a symbol of how trapped she was.

And now that an alien like supercomputer had ravaged the school and now they were free of them, things began to loosen up. Obviously, as she said, Jeremy wasn’t talking to her much, if at all, and Brooke wasn’t speaking to Chloe anymore.

Chloe was letting off some of her bitchface and revealing something akin to her middle school self, but it wasn’t enough for Brooke to forgive her for the years of being shoved around to accent Chloe’s popularity and beauty and how she’d been yelled at, become basically an emotional slave to this new Chloe. When she’d wanted to express how ugly Madeline was, Brooke no longer had to be commanded how to respond, she could read New Chloe’s mind.

Almost.

She’d messed up a bit of mind reading. Okay, a lot. But Chloe couldn’t direct her on how to react for all of high school, so she’d done her best with instinct, and when she’d failed, she thought she’d deserved it, for not being perfect. Chloe was perfect, she’d never been like her. Never would be.

That morning, at school, Chloe had gasped when she’d seen Brooke wearing her big blue glasses and Nikes rather than Uggs with her usual yellow cardigan, a grey shirt, and jeans.

She’d pulled Brooke into the bathroom and then pulled out a tampon and a slightly squished Hershey’s bar.

”You must be on your period. Here, use these, and I’ll go grab some spare boots and contacts from your locker,” she said, shoving the tampon/chocolate pairing at her.

”I’m not on my period.”

Chloe stopped in her tracks and stared at her, dumbfounded.

”Then... then why are you wearing... wearing your glasses, those awful shoes?”

”Because I want to,” Brooke said, walking out and leaving Chloe alone in her dust.

So neither of them said anything to the other at lunch. And Jeremy had complimented her on her glasses, so that was... she hadn’t said anything, and ignored the warmth that comment had brought her.

She was reinventing herself. No longer the girl some boy fucked on a drunken Friday night, she was Brooke Lohst.

Her name was Brooke Lohst, and she wore blue glasses and pink Nikes.

 


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another beginning, Jeremy’s, as he tries to understand some things.

Jeremy was still shellshocked.

 

Even though it’d been two, almost three weeks since the play. The play, the deactivating of the SQUIPs. The dark spiderlike pain wrapping around him like an oozy cloud before consuming him.

 

He’d spent most of the three days in the hospital sleeping, and then, back to school. He hadn’t wanted such a sudden push back into reality, but his dad had definitely taken a trip to Kohl’s. And Walmart. And the thrift store. Really, wherever one could buy pants. So that meant the closing Sear’s down the road, too. And if Kmart were still around...

 

But anyway, now he was back to school.

 

He and Michael hadn’t talked about what’d happened much. Right when he’d woken up in the hospital on the first day, he’d asked why he’d come and helped even though Jeremy had been a royal jerk; Michael had shrugged it off. And that was all that was said on the subject.

 

But when he went to school, obviously, he wasn’t as popular as he had been with the SQUIP, not even close, but Chloe Valentine had come up to him, hugging him suddenly (Jeremy had stayed extremely stiff and felt his blood run cold, but luckily, it was just a hug) and she’d asked him to come sit with her, Brooke, and the others.

 

Did she not remember how she’d made him feel on Halloween night? How she’d taken off his shirt and stuck her hand down his pants? How she’d forced alcohol on him? How she’d wanted to make Jake and Brooke feel jealous?

 

“Oh, and bring the nerd with the hoodie,” Chloe had offhandedly added, before sauntering away.

 

Well, then, he’d gone and found Christine, hanging out in the auditorium, silently reading Romeo & Juliet, and he’d quietly just explained to her, about the SQUIPs, what had happened, how sorry he was, et cetera. He was done trying to ask her out, he just wanted to forget it all happened and maybe be Christine’s friend?

 

Christine nodded vigorously. “Jeremy, I liked you best without that thing in your head. You were sweet, and cool. Can I be friends with that Jeremy?”

 

“Yes, absolutely,” Jeremy said. He couldn’t forget about how utterly head over heels he’d been for Christine (still kinda was) but he knew that Christine deserved someone better.

 

Not an insecure guy like him who spent $400 on a pill to make him cool.

 

But he did, however, discuss some meanings of a certain scene in Romeo & Juliet afterwards, though Christine, having read it probably around 50 times to his 2-read history, knew it better than he. And right as they were getting up to go to class, he asked her to go to lunch with him.

 

She tilted her head in thought. “With all the popular people? Jeremy, I dunno... popular people are weird.”

 

“Well, my friend Michael will be there, too, and there’s me. And they’re really not that bad.”

 

She thought for a moment. “I do wanna meet Michael. Maybe I will.”

 

And, as you probably know, she did come, and the rest was history.

 

Except that while Christine ranted about wanting to do RENT as the spring musical, and Chloe said that she’d actually taken Christine’s recommendation and watched the 2008 recording of RENT and now she wanted to play Maureen, Jeremy was looking at Brooke.

 

Brooke, who he’d dated for about half a day. But she’d been sweet, so excited, genuinely interested in him, the only girl who’d ever been. She was pretty, she had floaty blonde hair and bright green eyes and one day she came to school wearing glasses.

 

Square, plastic, and a bright, loud blue. They looked great, bringing out her eyes and looked great with her cardigan. She looked so... so beautiful, more than she had been, if that were even possible.

 

So he looked at her, and told her she looked amazing.

 

She stared, and it might’ve been his imagination or the lighting, but the tips of her ears and her cheeks might’ve dusted with pink for a moment.

 

“...Thanks, Jeremy,” she’d said after a moment, and tucked a strand of hair behind her head with a small smile.

 

He knew he definitely did see Chloe scowling at them, though.

 

After school, Michael invited him over to play video games, and Jeremy had (guiltily) agreed. He’d been an utter dick to Michael, the best he could do was go play video games with him for a bit.

 

The ride over was mostly uneventful, before Michael asked, “What happened to Christine, dude?”

 

“Huh?” Jeremy asked. He’d been caught off guard and wasn’t fully listening, since he’d zoned out.

 

“You’re totally mooning over Brooke. I thought that you liked Christine.”

 

“I’m not mooning over Brooke,” Jeremy automatically defended.

 

Michael shrugged. “Kinda seemed like you were pretty interested in Brooke at lunch. And I don’t see you jumping to date Christine, either.”

 

“I think she needs someone else. Not me. It’s not... she deserves better, not only, but I’d be pretty weirded out if someone took a supercomputer in order to try and date me.”

 

“Have you even told Christine how you feel? Or, felt?”

 

“I did. At Jake’s Halloween party. And she turned me down. We were both a little drunk, so I don’t know how much she remembers.”

 

“That explains a lot,” Michael muttered.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Nothing. Have you said anything since?”

 

“No. She was never interested in me as more than a friend, anyway. I should let her do what she wants.”

 

“So you’re getting over her?”

 

“I guess.”

 

“After spending four hundred dollars on a supercomputer that turned you into a jerk so that you could date Christine, you’re letting her go?”

 

“Is that so bad?”

 

“...”

 

“Got it.”

 

“I mean, do what you want, I guess, it’s your life.”

 

-

 

The video game playing session had been... a little strained. Michael had been hurt by him, he knew. It made sense that they wouldn’t immediately go back to normal. Still... he wished they could.

 

He wished that the whole thing had never happened.

 

Even if it’d given him and Michael new kind-of friends. He wasn’t too keen on Chloe or Jake, but Jenna had gotten along with him almost instantly. Same with Christine, and hell, to some degree, Rich.

 

Even then. It’d hurt each and every one of them, and likely nothing would ever be the same.

 

Jeremy wasn’t sure if he wanted things to go back to normal.

 

He was kinda cool now. He was friends with popular people. But still... there was lingering feelings of self betrayal in every video game, nerdy thing, and even theatre thing he indulged in. More anxiety than usual.

 

He’d said that he felt bad feeling weird. Yes, he’d said it under the SQUIP’s influence, but... he did still feel weird, not good, sick, even. He didn’t know why.

 

He went to bed questioning and thinking about Brooke in her glasses.

 

He couldn’t be as confident as she was. Never in a million years. He couldn’t stand up to Chloe, who he was positive was a toxic friend to Brooke, he’d never be able to.

 

He hadn’t been able to do it on Halloween night, had he?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brooke’s glasses: https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/31gvNCq2%2BAL.jpg 
> 
> hmu at @justiceforalanabeck on tumblr (there’s only a couple posts but my main is mainly my witchblr so)


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke, a friend gained, and a friend lost.

She was just minding her own buisness, lounging on her bed with her big chunky headphones on, listening to Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me, when her phone vibrated and she could feel, literally _feel_ the anger radiating from it.

Chloe💄: ok so explain yourself brooke.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit shit shiiiiiiiter shit shit.

She felt her blood run cold. She wanted to crawl under her blankets and hide for eighteen million bajillion years.

She’d known that her active rebellion against Chloe was going to have consequences, but now she was Very Afraid. The confidence from her initial deviation from Chloe’s influence had now been stripped away, revealing her true, scared little puppy self.

Chloe💄: you know i can see that you’ve read this, right?

Chloe didn’t wait for an answer, because now her phone was ringing with the stupid pop song ringtone she’d set up with her.

Defeatedly, Brooke answered, but didn’t say anything.

Chloe didn’t, either, and Brooke was initially wondering if she was even at the other end, before finally, Chloe spoke.

“I’m waiting.”

“For... for what?”

“What happened to you, Brooke? You were never this..”

“Rebellious? I noticed. And I got tired of it.”

A pause. “Cool. So we’re throwing away our friendship just because you wanna dress like a slob?”

“How does wearing glasses and sneakers make me a slob?”

“...”

“I’m waiting.”

“Jesus, what got into you? Are you okay? Is that weird supercomputer still on in your brain?”

“What the fuck. No.”

“So, Brooke. Apparently, I’m such an abusive person, and I’m your master, according to you. Care to explain?”

“I don’t see how I need to. Because that’s pretty much how it’s been between us since high school began.”

“Oh, so we’re calling me abusive now!”

“Yeah. I am. So?”

“So, I have a feeling you don’t really value our friendship anymore?”

“Friendship? Chlo, our friendship died with Middle School Chloe. Now... I have New Chloe. Chloe who only uses me to accentuate her own popularity.”

There was an... indescribable sound from the other end. A sob? Nah. It couldn’t be.

“I’m trying to be better, Brooke.”

“You’re not trying very hard.”

“Well then, I’ll go try with someone else, how about that?”

“Fine. Go ahead.”

Chloe hung up.

Brooke should’ve been crying, but... there were no tears. Of remorse, sadness, pity... nothing.

That supercomputer brain thing, as bad as it’d been, the one thing she clearly remembered about it was it tsking at her friendship with Chloe.

“Ah, so you’re the meek beta to the queen bee of school. You’ll be a fun one to turn around,” it’d said.

So maybe, it’d even been a little bit eye opening.

In fact, she hadn’t remembered anything bad about it, whatsoever. Granted, what she remembered was... minuscule, but...

Whatever. She needed to rant to someone.

Brooke💃: So I think i might’ve just friend-broken-up with Chloe????????????

Jenna👌🏴‍☠️: wait hold on sister WHAT

Jenna👌🏴‍☠️: did you actually..?

Brooke💃: I think so????????????? Jenna help idk how to feel

Jenna👌🏴‍☠️: whyre you asking me? Ask christine mayb e?

Brooke💃: Wiat why

Brooke💃: *Wait

Jenna👌🏴‍☠️: ive never been your friend? why am i the one to talk to?

Brooke💃: That was when Chloe had the reins

Brooke💃: Logically, starting over and being fresh should be harder than this but if we wanna make it easier

Brooke💃: I’m really sorry for how I treated you, Jenna, that’s the truth.

Jenna👌🏴‍☠️: aight boys take it from the top

Brooke💃: Hi, I’m Brooke Lohst. What’s your name?

Jenna👌🏴‍☠️: Jenna Rolan. My middle name is off limits.

Brooke💃: R00D

Jenna👌🏴‍☠️: 🤷‍♀️

Jenna 👌🏴‍☠️: so brooke are you the kind of person who puts emojis next to names in texts??

Brooke 💃: Yeah

Brooke 💃: Your emojis are the 👌 and the pirate flag 🏴‍☠️

Jenna 👌🏴‍☠️: why?

Brooke💃: IDK just because. You want me to change it?

Jenna 👌🏴‍☠️: if you wanna lol i don’t care quite that much new friend😄

Brooke💃: Cool 😃

They texted for... awhile, honestly. It was just starting to get dark when Jenna texted this:

Jenna💜👌: you wanna go get din din?

Brooke👏: Jenna Rolan i stg if you call it din din ever again

Jenna💜👌: srsly we can go to that new Italian place in the mall

Brooke👏: Lemme check with my mom!

Brooke bolted out of her room and skipped, actually skipped to the living room, where her mom was going through some paperwork on the couch while the local 6:30 news played on the TV.

“Hey, mom. Which animal’s paperwork isn’t that?”

“This? No, these are my tax returns. We did have a bunch of dogs brought in who’d eaten chocolate today, nothing too interesting.”

“How’s Uniqua?” Brooke asked, referring to an elderly cat who’d been hospitalised at the animal hospital for almost a month now.

“Improving. Still as grumpy as ever, though.”

“Cool. Can I go out with Jenna for dinner?”

“Oh, sure. I was gonna ask if you wanted to order takeout, we don’t have much in the fridge.”

“I think we’re going to that new Italian place. Do you want me to bring you back something?”

“Sure. Take twenty bucks out of the takeout food jar, that should pay for the both of us. Keys are on the hook, don’t drive drunk, be home by two.”

“I’ll be home probably by eight thirty if not before, I’ve got homework and if I’m bringing food and you’re getting the night shift at the animal hospital, don’t wanna keep you waiting.”

Her mom smiled. “God, what am I ever gonna do without you?”

“You’ll have to discuss the crazy way the basset hounds break their legs with sprinklers and broken hoola hoops with someone else. It’ll be devastating.”

-

Brooke arrived early, as she always did when going to eat with someone, and snagged a table quickly, before the dinner time rush really began. As it was, when Jenna came in in her big, loudly coloured leopard print jacket, there were fifteen minute waits for tables.

“Hey!” Jenna called, weaving around people who were waiting and pulling out her chair to plop down across from her.

“Let’s pretend we just met again. Since we’re in person, it’ll be more... um, meaningful, I guess,” Brooke suggested.

Jenna stared quizzically at her, but humoured her nonetheless. “Hi, my name’s Jenna Rolan. You still don’t get to know my middle name.”

The waitress came with a basket of breadsticks and asked for their drink orders, and afterwards, Brooke introduced herself while looking through the menu.

“Hey, I’m Brooke Eden Lohst. I don’t withhold my middle name like _some_ people,” Brooke laughed.

Jenna smiled, but looked a little lost, a little sad, and Brooke touched her arm comfortingly.

“I’m gonna be better to you now. We’ll be friends! For real!”

“I know... but... it’s gonna take me some getting used to.”

“That’s okay.”

“So, um, what’re you getting? I think the fettuccine alfredo looks good.”

“Oh, I think I’m getting veggie lasagna. I’ll let you have a bite.”

As they talked, pretending they were old friends, Brooke felt a sense of longing. Wouldn’t it be great if Chloe were here too? Not New Chloe, but Old, Middle School Chloe?

Middle School Chloe and Jenna would’ve gotten along well.

And now, she might never get any Chloe back. And Chloe was really trying. She really was.

But she was still kinda a bitch. See what’d she done to Brooke for wearing sneakers outside of P.E. and her glasses?

Still. She wanted Chloe back. And her heart hurt even just remembering her, either Chloe.

She had to go into the bathroom to cry for a minute, and even when she came back to a hot and delicious lasagna, it couldn’t revive her spirits.

What could she do to get Chloe back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aight we’re starting to get to the j u i c i e r stuff guys - but im gonna be out of the lower 48 until feburary 10th, sooo.... sorry, don’t expect any updates until then. 
> 
> until then, thanks for your continued support, comments and kudos! wear your seatbelts!
> 
> \- dev


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress is made, smiles are smiled, and Chloe Valentine is a mess.

Jeremy had two goals for Friday

  1. Check out A Tale of Two Cities from the school library
  2. Talk to Brooke.



That was a fairly simple list, on paper, at least. He got through his morning classes, and grabbed the Charles Dickens novel on his way to the cafeteria, shoving it under some slightly majorly crumpled papers in his backpack.

  1. ~~Check out A Tale of Two Cities from the school library~~
  2. ~~~~~~~~Talk to Brooke.



The period at the end of item 2 made it seem final. Talk to Brooke. Not Talk to Brooke with no punctuation, giving ambiguity to whether he’d actually get to cross that off the list.

But it was anything but final, anything but the verdict, the exact thing that had to and needed to happen.

He reached the lunch table with his brown paper bag, shoved his backpack carefully under the table, making sure a strap was around his ankle, and took out his foil-wrapped peanut butter & jelly and applesauce cup, making him feel precisely six years and three days old.

Brooke wasn’t there yet. Chloe wasn’t there either, but she hadn’t sat at the lunch table with everyone else for several days. She didn’t even look at Brooke. It didn’t take a genius to make a (probably correct) hypothesis as to what happened, but it did take someone who knew what a hypothesis was.

At any rate, Christine, Jenna, Jake, and Rich were already at the table, and he’d seen Michael crossing the street to 7/11 from a window in the library while Mrs. Kerkandikus had scanned his book at the speed of light - if the speed of light was a sloth pace. So he’d be here soon.

Brooke was probably getting outside lunch, too. Really, it was only a matter of time until she turned up.

Michael showed up with a Lunchable and a slushie cup (which did not contain any slushie) full of Capri Sun (which he squeezed in as soon as he’d sat down, three entire pouches of it) and announced he was going on a quest to try every flavour of Capri Sun in existence. Christine gave him a sip of her Fruit Punch flavour one, which was not in a slushie cup.

Brooke would be there soon. The college-ruled lined slip of paper in his pocket wasn’t burning any holes. There wasn’t exactly enough friction in his jean pocket to start a fire, anyway.

Chloe sat down on a bench lining the wall across from them. Everyone on one side of the table (currently Christine, Rich, and likely soon Brooke, since Jeremy, Jenna, and Jake occupied the other side, three seats filled with humans and one with Jenna’s project for biology, between her and Jeremy, whom she trusted not to bounce a ball or spill ketchup on it.

Her eyes were red, but looked as good as ever, a purple keyhole t-shirt, $800 skinny jeans, leather boots likely made from the skin of a golden high-born fancy pants cow, and hoop earrings, both with a seven inch diameter.

Her makeup was flawless, not a blemish visible (at least from a hundred feet away) and she looked as gorgeous as usual, as Queen Bee Who Will Eat Your Soul, Make a Band Poster Out Of It, and Burn the Poster as you can get, if not for the obvious signs she’d been crying.

But wait. Brooke was sitting down next to Christine with a Zaxby’s bag and cup, Chloe appearance analysis over. 

“God, the line in there stretched outside, apparently there was a really cheap chicken strips deal going on, and I’m sure the fifty people behind me weren’t all too pleased that I ordered a salad,” she complained, plopping down and removing the container from the bag, popping it open and drizzling it over the greens. The drizzle was mesmerising, and so was the fact that she was wearing a kelly green crop top with a daffodil on it in mid-February. 

The diffrences between Brooke and Chloe... wow. Chloe was a mess but a hot mess, and Brooke was hot and a little messy, but not in the same way.

With the crop top, came a white pleated skirt, very private-school esque, and skin-tone pantyhose. Pantyhose. Who even wore pantyhose anymore? 

Brooke did, and she looked beautiful.

She practically glowed. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, she was smiling, and joking a little bit with Jake, proposing he cut a basketball in half and make a salad bowl out of it, to ‘impress’ her. Jeremy wasn’t saying Brooke was flirting with him, but Jeremy was saying Brooke was flirting with him.

They’d dated before, though. And Jake had _left_ her for Chloe. Getting back together? The fabric of the school would explode upon itself.

”I - uh, Brooke, have you ever flown a drone?” 

“What?”

All eyes were upon him. Jeremy Heere, asking Brooke, the second-prettiest girl in school, if she’d ever flown a goddamn drone.

“I... I built a drone last year, took me forever to find all the parts on EBay, but... I was wondering if you could come over one day, you can fly it. I-if you want. I’m not trying to force you into a-anything, I’m just-“

”I’d love to,” Brooke said, putting him out of his misery with a small, sugar sweet smile, which kept Jeremy blushy for the rest of lunch.

  1. ~~Check out a Tale of Two Cities from the school library~~
  2. ~~Talk to Brooke.~~



 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and sweet-ish filler, next chapter will have definite, even more plot-advancing action, adventure, and pining. stay tuned, maybe ill update again before i turn 20!


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke is unprepared to actually, as the kids say, ‘hang out’ with Jeremy. Especially alone.
> 
> Also featuring : Brooke getting a certain something from a certain someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weed, mentions of smoke and burning for your tws

Brooke had acted calm and collected when Jeremy had asked her to come over, but inside, she was absolutely panicking.

She hadn’t planned for this! She was supposed to still be mad at Jeremy. She was supposed to be all cool and above him. She didn’t know why she was supposed to still be mad (who could blame him for cheating on her with Chloe? She was the steppingstone to her, anyway, most boys who dated her just wanted to get to Chloe) but she was still angry at several people (including Ella Maguire, whom she hadn’t seen or heard from since fifth grade, also including Chloe, but that one was for much more obvious reasons.)

She didn’t even fucking know how to deal with... boys... ~~especially boys she had a crush on~~  anymore.

So guess who she went to talk to?

Dustin fucking Kropp.

She was popular, goddamnit. She didn’t need to be talking to him. But here she was, plopping on the blue wire bench next to him.

He looked at her weirdly. “What’s up, Princess?” He wasn’t smoking, but he looked at least slightly high.

“Boy problems,” she sighed, leaning back defeatedly on the bench.

”And why are you asking me? Go gab about Mr. Cutie with Chlo Chlo and Jenny.”

”I want to buy marijuana,” Brooke blurted suddenly, sitting back up ramrod straight.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What kind and why, sweetie?”

”I’ll... I’ll make him weed brownies! All guys like weed, right?”

”...The type and amount you’ll need for brownies will run you thirty bucks.” Dustin said, eyebrow raised.

”Deal,” Brooke said, hastily grabbing her purse and taking out a twenty, a five, and five ones. This was a genius idea! Jake and Rich liked weed, and Noah Redinger, and Troy Selwater, and... a whole lot of dudes, really. And some girls she knew. So of course Jeremy would like it too!

She’d never had it, personally, but it couldn’t be too bad. It only made you giggle and think everything was silly. Jeremy was probably experienced and really good at being high. He could laugh at her antics and everything would be great.

He removed some green pellets from a gallon sized baggie, and put them instead in a quart sized one, closed it, covered it up in two brown paper bags, and rolled it up before handing it to her, taking the cash she held out to him.

”Don’t let anyone catch you with that on school property if you don’t want a mugshot selfie op. And if you did... if you say it was from me, you’d better be ready to pay.”

Brooke thought that that was a little extreme and concerning, but shrugged it off as she gently placed the weed in her backpack and zipped it up.

”Thanks, Dustin.”

”Anytime, sugar.”

She walked off, thirty dollars lighter and a bag of weed burning a pocket in her... backpack.

At home, she spent hours googling up weed brownie recipes and probably putting herself on government watchlists, and then she had an idea.

Ask Jeremy if he could just come over here instead. She could have weed brownies ready and a few movies, maybe some of her mom’s box wine. Make it kinda romantic-ish, but also not!

So she called him quickly.

”H-hello?” He answered hastily.

”Hi, Jeremy!”

”What’s up?”

”So, I was wondering if you’d rather just come over here instead? I thought up a little... surprise for you.”

Jeremy sputtered for a good ten seconds before responding with English, high pitched and obviously nervous. “Y-Yeah, sure Brooke!”

”And, what about Friday afternoon? At four? That work for you?”

”I, Um, yeah.”

”Great! See you Friday, then! Bye!”

”Goodbye.”

She hung up, feeling light and happy.

She breezed through her homework, had a quick dinner, talked to her mom for a bit while typing up an essay, texted Jenna for about an hour and then hopping into bed happily.

-

Friday at school was pretty typical, but without the normal pressure to not do ‘too well’ in class, she raised her hand almost constantly in math class. She was pretty good at math, and actually enjoyed it, and enjoyed being more involved in the class.

After the bell rang, she stuffed her things into her backpack and started away. She only had one more period before lunch, AP History, and then she’d get to see Jenna and Jeremy.

Then she felt a tap on her shoulder, barely having entered the hall.

She turned around and saw Harper Oor, in all her glory. She was short, with choppy, armpit length, straight brown hair in two pigtail braids, big square black glasses over her bright chocolate brown eyes, wearing no makeup and just rocking her olive toned skin, covered in freckles and acne. She wore a knit orange sweater, khakis, Oxfords, and had a mesh blue backpack overflowing with papers.

She was really pretty, and really effing nerdy.

She looked positively happy, smiling up at Brooke with her large two front teeth on display.

”You were great in class! I never knew you were that good!”

”Thanks,” Brooke said, smiling back. She didn’t usually talk to people like Harper, but... she was trying to change, so talking to Harper couldn’t hurt.

”I was wondering, maybe you’d wanna join the math team? We’ve been needing another member, and we have a competition in a couple weeks.”

It would probably be pretty fun, actually. But it was a giant leap from her usual social pedestal.

She knew deep down she didn’t want to give up her popularity. Not yet.

She wanted to be herself and separate from Chloe and live her life how she wanted to, but... was it bad to want to be more popular.

”I’d have to think about it,” she said finally.

Harper nodded understandingly. “Just tell me when you’ve decided, we meet on Thursdays and Mondays at four in that same classroom!”

With that, she... she actually skipped off.

Harper probably had problems. This was fucking high school, there was no way she wasn’t somewhat miserable. But... the fact that she had the confidence to skip through the hall?

Brooke wanted to be like that. Not meek and quiet and having to dodge around jocks and bigger people and bullies and... practically everyone.

Skipping through the halls, _forcing_ people to make way, no matter her popularity level. People would hate her a little for being a goody-two-shoes but would envy her deep inside because she had that level of confidence.

She sighed, watching Harper until she turned the corner, and quietly went to AP History.

-

But Brooke couldn’t worry about Harper too much, because all too soon and not soon enough, the day arrived and Jeremy was knocking on the door.

“Hi, Jeremy!” Brooke greeted brightly as soon as she’d opened the door, giving him a big grin. Internally, she had butterflies in her stomach and she was jittery with excitement.

Excitement to see a friend.

She invited Jeremy in, and he followed, and then sniffed. “Is something burning?”

And that’s when Brooke realised that she’d probably left the brownies in the oven entirely too long.

She rushed to the kitchen and opened up the oven, allowing it to let out a comical puff of smoke, as she hastily shoved a potholder onto her hand and practically threw the pan onto the trivet.

“Are those...” Jeremy trailed off and stared at her questioningly.

“My mom’s gonna skin me alive.”

“Why were you making... weed brownies?”

“I don’t know how to talk to you, okay! You’re not who you were with the SQUIP, and I wanna get to know you, I just... i don’t know how or-“

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Brooke had burst into tears and was now on the floor hugging her knees, oven mitts still on, while the smoke detector beeped incessantly.

And then Jeremy was crouching down to her level.

“Can I give you a hug?”

She nodded tearfully, and then Jeremy’s thin, long arms were wrapped around her and she buried her face in his shirt and everything felt ten times better.

He smelled like vanilla and a little bit of strawberry, his arms were soft and gentle, his shirt smelled like laundry detergent and his vanilla smell, and she felt safe and like nothing else mattered.

He pulled away when her tears subsided, and she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hands, smiling ruefully at him.

“I’m sorry.” Brooke said.

“No, no, it’s okay. I get it. I did some shit that hurt you, and... it messed you up a lot.”

She just nodded. “It’s alright, though. I mean, it’s Chloe. If I had a boyfriend who cared about me the whole world would be out of order and in chaos.”

He looked uncomfortable and bit his lip, but shifted to a comforting gaze quickly, almost frantically. “You don’t deserve all that.”

“It’s alright. Not like she can do it now, right?”

“Yeah. But...”

“Yeah?”

“Brooke. I didn’t... I know this’ll sound assholey at first, but... I didn’t cheat on you.”

“Then what did you do?” Brooke was confused, and mentally setting up defences, readying for his excuses.

“Chloe... she... told me that you were upstairs in the bedroom, then she locked the door, pushed me onto the bed, and... and climbed on top of me. I wanted her to stop but the SQUIP wouldn’t let me do anything and... if not for her forcing alcohol on me..”

Brooke’s head was spinning and every little defense, everything she’d figured on him saying, was now thrown out the window.

“Oh my god.”

That was all she could say as she tried to process.

Chloe... Chloe had... sexually fucking assaulted him. Because...

“Did she say anything to you about... about why she did it?”

“She was jealous. Of you.”

“Why... wh-why would she be jealous of me?”

“I don’t know, Brooke.”

“She didn’t... did she go...”

“The alcohol she had in her bottle made the SQUIP malfunction so I could run. She never got very far, but...”

“Jeremy. I’m so fucking sorry. I... I know Chloe is a bitch but I never thought she’d do something like this. I’m sorry for being angry at you because you didn’t fucking deserve that. Not one bit.”

Jeremy looked pained, and just nodded.

“Can I return the hug?” Brooke asked. He looked small and vulnerable and sad and she couldn’t stand it.

He nodded, and now she embraced him, and she relished the way he sank into the hug, let her hug him tight and give all she could to him.

And then she realised how fast her heart was beating, and how she longed to stare into Jeremy’s blue green eyes for hours and hours and then lean in, letting her eyes finally close, and-

No. Jeremy was still just her fucking friend. She didn’t wanna... make lip contact.

She distracted herself from her intruding thoughts about holding his hand and smiling into kisses with thoughts of what she was going to say to Chloe, what she was going to do. Brooke would make Chloe fucking pay, she didn’t have the right to do that to Jeremy, just to spite her. Her best friend.

Brooke didn’t really think that Chloe was jealous of her. There was no way. Chloe just didn’t want her to be happy, wanted submission and to use Brooke for power of her own. Power, that was what Chloe cared about.

And Brooke hated her. It felt almost betraying to say it, having been Chloe’s friend for years, remembering the slumber parties, the nail painting, the splashing in the pool and the late nights staying awake after sneaking a horror movie up to Chloe’s bedroom TV.

But how could she be friends with someone as vile as her?

Jeremy pulled out of the hug first, and Brooke stared up at him, making sure he looked okay. He didn’t really, but it was better than before.

“Michael smokes weed a fair amount, so I know how we can air out this house.”

So they spent the next twenty minutes throwing out the ruined brownies, putting the garbage bag into the neighbour’s bin, turning on every fan in the house (Jeremy had wanted to open up most of the windows but Brooke limited him to the two in the kitchen, warning that it was freezing outside and that they didn’t need to drive up the heating bill that much) and lighting some scented candles.

It wasn’t perfect, the smell still kinda lingered, but when the windows were closed and done the candles made everything smell more sweet than marijuana-like, and Brooke busted out Sorry on the living room rug.

Jeremy, as it turned out, was a fucking brutal master of Sorry, laughing as he bumped Brooke’s pieces back to start.

Brooke, for her part, wasn’t used to the competition because her mom stank at Sorry and Chloe never wanted to play a ‘little kid game’ like that, but quickly matched Jeremy in ruthlessness and laughing in the other’s face whilst you bumped them back time and time again.

Brooke had probably never laughed so hard in her life. She felt exhilarated, happy, and at ease. Like nothing else mattered but her and Jeremy... and making sure his piece didn’t fucking make it into the safe zone.

She wanted to spend forever with him.

And that’s when she finally admitted to herself.

She had a goddamn crush on Jeremy Heere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this!!! damn!!! chapter!!! took!!! too!!! long!!! to!!! write!!! 
> 
> it’s my fault for that, i originally had two major plot points here before deciding I hated the chapter altogether and the plot points needed to be separate.
> 
> so i saved the part with the Other plot point (which should probably appear in chapter seven) and made a new chapter around the part i actually wanted here. 
> 
> also, if id kept them together, this chapter would’ve been five thousand words long or longer. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> anyway, thanks so much for reading!! my tumblr is @justiceforalanabeck, hmu peeps.
> 
> lastly, make sure you wear your seatbelts!
> 
> ~ dev


End file.
